Bear Thy Cross
by Kaze Kimizu
Summary: Today is January 26th, 2010. I'm sure you can guess. Mello and Matt prepare for the Takada Kidnapping.


**Author's Note:** I'm sure you can guess the occasion for this one. Just as a side note, this day would have also been my one-year anniversary with my ex, had she stayed with me. It is a somber day for many in the fandom.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note. If I did, there would be no reason to mourn today.

**Warning:** Language. Sex. Character death.

* * *

"Today's the day, Matt. Get dressed."

The blonde barely looked at his partner as he drifted from room to room in their shared apartment. Too many things were on his mind. If everything went according to plan, he would have this case in the palm of his hand. Yet, the smallest deviation, and everything could fall apart right before his eyes. The pressure was stifling.

"Hey. You don't look so good," Matt commented. He grabbed a towel from the back of the couch, heading off to shower. "Everything is going to work. You've got this planned perfectly. Just think, Mello. Tonight, we'll be halfway to victory. I just know it."

Mello nodded absent-mindedly, leaning against the kitchen counter. He reached for a chocolate bar out of habit. As he peeled the wrapper away, however, he realized that he couldn't eat it no matter how hard he tried. The dread in his stomach grew with each passing moment. Four hours, sixteen minutes, twenty-nine seconds. That's all the time they had left before it was time to go. He vaguely registered the bathroom door closing, the sound of rushing water completely escaping his attention.

"We've come so far," he thought. "We've defied everything. We've worked so hard. But if we're going to win this one…there has to be a sacrifice. I know what might happen. I just pray that we'll make it alive."

He walked across their living area, eyes dimly sweeping across their belongings. Only two weeks in this apartment and they had to leave already. He shook his head, finally noticing the worn Bible sitting on their coffee table. It wasn't his; he honestly had no idea who it belonged to. Some things were left in the apartment when they moved out, as though somebody had to leave in a hurry.

Mello sat down on the couch, tracing the golden letters printed on the front reading "Holy Bible." He flipped the cover back, letting the pages slide open on their own. As the pages settled, his eyes caught a familiar verse. Of all the verses in the Bible, it was probably the last one he wanted to see.

"For God so loved the world," he muttered, "that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him shall not parish, but have everlasting life."

He sank back against the couch cushions, eyes closed. A whispered "Amen" fell from his lips. Somewhere in the background, Matt began singing in the shower.

"I'm so tired," Mello thought. "I don't want to do this. I don't want to save the world. But Christ never had a choice, and neither do I. This is the path I've known all along. I'm meant to change the world. I just hope to God that I'm around to see the end result. This path is my cross. I'll take it up, and that will be that."

He stood slowly, making his way over to the window. He watched the city streets with a new respect. Each and every person below had a life. Most were blissfully unaware of the impending danger of the day. Each had his or her own beliefs on whether or not there was a God, whether or not there was a Kira, whether or not there was an L. The entire world was one big system of beliefs.

"And I know what I believe," Mello said softly, bowing his head. "I believe in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. I believe in L the person, not L the title. I believe in Kira, and I believe he is wrong. I believe…that there is no other option. Nobody else will make a move that could put them in danger. Somebody has to take the risk. Somebody has to change the course of history. We absolutely cannot wait."

He took a deep breath, lifting his head in pure defiance. He felt the blood rush through his veins as new confidence took hold of his mind. He pressed one palm to the window, the coolness forcing him to focus. It was time to stop feeling sorry and scared.

"Goodbye, Near," he spoke to his own reflection in the glass. "You can have the world. I've chosen my path. I will die with the decision I've made. I know this. Take down that Kira bastard, and don't let any fucker forget me."

He turned away suddenly, eyes shining a brilliant blue. He pushed the bathroom door open, slipping inside soundlessly. Matt was still singing in the spray of the shower, completely oblivious. Like a predator, Mello stripped himself and flung back the shower curtain. He smirked at the surprise on Matt's face.

"Let's fuck," he growled in the voice he knew Matt loved the most. No other words were spoken. Matt pulled Mello closer, into a crushing kiss. The blonde tangled his fingers in Matt's hair and pulled, and in response, Matt gripped Mello's wet skin tightly, dragging fingernails down the blonde's sides. The spray of the water posed no obstacle; they fucked just like always, dirty and rough. The water washed away their sins instantly, leaving them clean and fresh as they emerged from the bathroom, both glowing in the lulling moments after each had spent his seed. Silently, they dressed in thick layers to combat the chill.

Mello draped his rosary around his neck, zipping his jacket around it to hold it closer to his chest. He watched Matt shrug into his vest, for once not bothering to comment on how ridiculous the furry thing looked. He passed Matt the orange tinted goggles that the gamer often wore at the worst times, including funerals. The air around them both felt heavy. Each boy was lost in his own thoughts.

"So, tonight," Matt said in an attempt to lighten the mood, "Chinese food? My treat."

"Sure," Mello said.

They walked out of the apartment together. Mello locked the door, his hand lingering on the doorknob. He wished he had looked around the room one more time, just so he wouldn't forget. But the time had passed, and Matt would worry if he opened the door again.

He pressed his hand to the gamer's cheek, drawing him close for a long kiss. His hand wrapped around Matt's waist as their tongues danced against one another. A beeping watch startled them both, jerking them away from their comfortable world. Time was against them. The plan had to start moving.

There was no formal goodbye. Mello simply turned toward the fire escape, while Matt took the stairs. Mello climbed on his bike, and Matt walked to the parking garage for his car. As Mello slipped the bike helmet over his head, a pang of guilt ripped through his stomach. Their final kiss had been interrupted. Nothing could change that.

The plan had to be followed. Mello revved the bike and sped away. Matt climbed into the car and drove through the same traffic he'd driven several times before.

Mello parked and waited. Matt parked and pulled out a cigarette. Both watches went off simultaneously. The limo pulled up to the gathered crowd, and the bitch stepped out…

Like a well-rehearsed play, each action fell into place before anyone could register what was happening. Matt fired the smoke gun. Mello got the bitch onto the bike. Mello sped off in one direction. Matt sped off in the other.

Cold handcuffs clasped around the bitch's wrist, binding her to Mello according to plan. The sound triggered something in his memory that he pushed away. This was not the time to think of Matt and handcuffs and whips.

He drove the motorcycle into the waiting delivery truck. The bitch trembled, and her eyes were wide like a doe's. He slid his helmet off, staring at her for a moment. Vulnerability personified. He felt sorry for her. He didn't want to feel sorry for her.

"Take off everything you're wearing and put it in the box," he commanded. He drew his gun at her hesitation. "Hurry up. You can use this blanket."

All went according to plan. He disposed of her clothes and began to drive once more, flicking the television on in the cab of the delivery truck.

"This is the only thing that can be done. If I don't do it…"

"_-as for the suspect who was gunned down earlier-"_

"No," he thought.

"_-we're still unable to identify him-"_

"No. God, no," his mind reeled. "This isn't how it was supposed to happen. Matt had the safe job. I'm the sacrifice."

"_-but police are tracking the remaining suspect-"_

"Matt… I never thought you'd be killed… I'm sorry…"

He felt the grief rising like bile in his throat. He suffocated in it. But the mission was not over.

"I was supposed to be the sacrifice. When I asked you to take up your cross and follow me, Matt, I never wanted you to be the lamb that died. This was my decision, and my burden. I never wanted to bring you down with me. This is not how it was supposed to end. Matt…"

The blonde jerked suddenly, his eyes growing wild. His grip on the steering wheel loosened. A ripping pain tore through his chest, and suddenly he couldn't breathe.

"Matt… Matt…"

He did not feel the truck wreck. He did not feel the bitch setting fire to the church in which they'd crashed. He did not even feel his last breath slip through his lips.

All he felt were Matt's arms around him, and a voice against his ear saying, "Come home."

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_If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? Matthew 16:24-26_

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